


I Get To Love You

by therearenousernameleft



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Arranged Marriage, Arranged Marriage, AryaxGendry Week, AryaxGendry Week 2018, F/M, Gendrya - Freeform, I think I have a thing for this au, I'm sorry about the summary, Jon is at Winterfell because why not, No Starks were harmed in the writing of this fic, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, axgweek, everything is sunshine and rainbows, there are no dragons no war no white walkers, yet another arranged marriage au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-22
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-06-14 10:37:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15386949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therearenousernameleft/pseuds/therearenousernameleft
Summary: Arya Stark thought she would never get married, but as fate would have it, she was incredibly wrong. She was betrothed to Lord Renly Baratheon’s nephew, Gendry Baratheon. Though she still refused to meet Gendry before they get married. What was the point? They were going to be married within a week, and then she was going to spend the rest of her life with him.Written for axgweek 2018





	1. Eye-contact

**Author's Note:**

> I own nothing except my mistakes (probably too many of those). All the characters belong to the person who gave us the ASOIAF series, G.R.R.M.

****Chapter 1: Eye-contact** **

Arya Stark thought she was invisible. Why wouldn't she? Sansa was the beautiful one. She was the horse-face one. She didn't mind, if anything she preferred it. It meant that she won't get betrothed and that no one would ever take her away from her home. She would never leave Winterfell. She was happy being Arya Horse-face. But as fate would have it, she was incredibly wrong.

Her father told her that he had found a perfect man for her. She said no. She didn't need to hear it. She didn't want to know if he was perfect, or if he had one arm, or a thousand years old, she just wanted to be at Winterfell. He didn't push it, then. Her mother tried to talk to her, but she had outright refused. Then it was Robb. She did not want to talk to about it with anyone, why didn’t they understand that. It wasn't until her father and Jon had softly called her name that she opened the door of her chamber.

"What?" She said, knowing full well how rude she must have sounded, but she didn't care. She might, she definitely will feel bad later, but at that moment, she was angry. And disappointed. Disappointed that her father would do this to her. She knew she was well beyond the marrying age, at twenty, according to the severely outdated laws of their realm, but again, she didn't care. Sansa was the one who always wanted to get married to a Knight or a Lord, not her.

"I won't force you to do anything, Arya." Her father said, his voice patient.

"Then no." She replied.

"Arya-" her father started.

"Am I such a burden to you?" She asked in a small voice.

"Oh, Arya." Her father moved to take the seat beside her on her bed, gently stroking her hair. "Never."

"Then, why?" She felt her voice catching. She willed herself not to cry. She won't, but the tears threatened to spill over her lashes.

"Life is not always what we want it to be, Arya. I have always respected your wishes. You think I never got any betrothal offers for you." She shook her head. "I have. Ever since you turned sixteen, some even before then, but I turned every single one of them down. I knew most of them didn't deserve you, and will never give you the freedom to be you, and I could never do that to that to my daughter. Then you turned eighteen, and even more offers came yet I still said no. Even after Catelyn asked me to reconsider, especially when a certain betrothal offer came from Dorne, but I still refused because I knew that you were not ready."

This didn't answer her question, but somehow it did make her feel better.

"Everyone kept pressuring me, kept telling me that you are getting older. I was still adamant that I wasn't going to say yes until you were ready. It wasn't until Renly introduced me to his nephew, Gendry, that I even considered it. He wasn't like the others, Arya. Gendry was different. He had been recently legitimized, and yet the boy held so much promise. He has the same fire that I see in you, and deep in my heart I knew, if anyone is going to keep my daughter happy it would be this man."

She didn't know why but she felt tears prick her eyes once again. She heard all the unsaid words too. She knew what people must have been saying behind their back. She liked to think that they were moving forward, that everyone was growing and not getting married is not something that everyone frowned upon anymore, but she wasn't delusional. She knew those times were still far away.

She knew, as much as it hurts to admit it, that her father won't be around forever to take her side. What then? She could always run away, but would she? She knew her mind was changing even as her father carried on. Her family meant everything to her. She knew in the end she would agree, but it didn't hurt any less.

"At least meet the man, Arya. It's only a meeting, and if your answer doesn't change after that, I will say no to Renly." Her father said finally.

She said nothing. She looked at Jon, even though she knew it would be fruitless. What could Jon do? She knew he would have tried, knew that he would have stood up for her. But if he was here, that meant that he wanted her to say yes too.

"It's not what you think, Arya," Jon said softly. She knew he would have read her expression. No one understood her like her father, and Jon did.

"When father told me about him, I refused to meet him. I knew you would never agree to wed him." He knelt in front of her, taking her hands in his he said, "but I was wrong. I did meet him, even though I still think that the Gods haven't made a man who deserves you, I think if you gave him a chance you would like him because I did. I gave him a chance, and against of all odds, he surprised me. Meet him, Arya. If you don't find him agreeable, Ghost and I will personally escort him out of Winterfell."

There must be something about him as two people, who she trusted the most in the Seven Kingdoms and beyond liked him. She bit her lip. No one said a word for several moments.

She drew a deep breath. "Both of you like him?"

"Yes." Her father and Jon said in unison.

"So will you meet him?" Her father’s voice was filled with hope.

"No." She saw his shoulders sagging a bit. Her father gave her a sad nod. Jon squeezed her hands as he got up. They were about to leave when she spoke again. "Tell them, I agree."

*

She had said yes, and everyone had spurred into action since then. Though she still refused to meet him before they get married. What was the point? They were going to be married within a week, and then she was going to spend the rest of her life with him.

But it wasn't as if she wasn't curious. Everywhere she went one person or another would be talking about him. It felt as if he had managed to impress everyone. And for some reason she hated it. She just wanted one person to say something bad about him.

She felt the smooth fur of Nymeria brush against her hand. Arya bent down to scratch her behind her ear. Nymeria made a happy noise.

"Please tell me you don't think he's all good too." She said, stroking Nymeria's head.

"Oh Gendry, there you are." She heard Renly saying.

She stilled. She didn't turn back as she hurriedly made her way back to the castle. All she saw was a really tall man from the corner of her eyes. But that could have been anyone.

*

"Have you met Lady Arya yet?" Uncle Renly asked entering his chamber.

He shook his head. "No."

Less than a week remained before the wedding, and he still hasn't met his would-be wife. He didn't blame her. He wasn't exactly happy when his Uncle told him that he should get married, that it was one of the ways he was going to strengthen his claim. He didn't want to be a Lord. He liked being a blacksmith, he used to be a blacksmith’s apprentice, but that seemed like it was ages ago, even though it must have been no more than a couple of years. Being a Lord seemed more trouble than it was worth, really. But he respected his uncle. Renly Baratheon took him in when he found out that he was King’s bastard and always treated him like a son. But Gendry wouldn't know how a father behaves, would he? He had only met his own father only a handful of times and even then he had been King, never a father.

He never even asked his uncle who he had in mind for the betrothal. He simply agreed. Though he will not lie, it was a pleasant surprise that it was with Lord Stark's younger daughter. He had met Lord Stark a few times before the betrothal, and he seemed like a genuinely nice and honorable man. He had never met Lady Arya, only heard either praise or some really weird tales about her.

"She is really beautiful, you know." Uncle Renly said smiling softly.

"How does that matter, Uncle?" He asked confused.

Uncle Renly raised his brows. "So you are saying you won't mind if she looked like me, just with longer hair."

He felt his lip twitch. "I'm certain that is not likely, Uncle."

Renly laughed. "But it is curious though that you two still haven't crossed each other yet."

"I did see her walking back to the castle with her Direwolf." He said remembering.

"How do you know it was her?" Uncle Renly asked, curious. "It could have been her sister."

"You told me that she had dark hair, and I have met Lady Sansa, and she doesn't." He explained.

Gendry was nervous. Lady Arya has lived her whole life as a high-born, where as he has been only doing this for a few years. What if she was disappointed in him? What if no one told her that he was a bastard? Then another thought struck him, what if someone did tell her that he was a bastard and that was the reason why she refused to meet him. He may be legitimized now, but he would still be a bastard born to a base-born mother, he would still be the person who lived most of his life in flea bottom.

"It's going to be fine, Gendry. Don't over think it." Uncle Renly said gently.

*

This was it. Today was the day. And after a few days she would leave Winterfell forever. She will visit a few times, but that would be it. Her home wouldn't be her home anymore.

"You look so beautiful, Arya," Sansa said happily.

She wanted to say thank you, but couldn’t, so she gave a Sansa small smile, and a nod.

"I met him, you know," Sansa said, taking a seat beside her.

She didn't know what she wanted to know. It was everything and nothing. She said nothing, quietly watching her hands.

"He seems like a good man," Sansa said gently.

Another one. She was getting tired of hearing that. No one can be that good.

"He doesn't speak much. At least he didn't to me. He is usually either with his uncle Renly or with Jon." Sansa continued.

"Why are you telling me this?" She said finally. A little annoyed, a little thankful.

Sansa shrugged. "I thought you should know."

*

Her mother cried when she finally left her room. Telling her over and over again how beautiful she looked. Her father's eyes shone with unshed tears too. Her brothers looked at her fondly. Nymeria licked her hand, trying to tell her that everything is going to be fine, the small gesture bringing tears in eyes. But she won't cry, she had promised herself that.

They were nearing the Godswood. Her father beside her, his pace slow. She was grateful for that. It was hard walking in her wedding dress.

She felt like there was a storm stirring inside her. Her heart was beating wildly against her chest. Why in the Gods name didn't she keep needle with her? The cold steel would have brought some comfort. Knowing she could face anything with it. She felt Nymeria's soft fur brush against the palm of her hand, and she felt slightly relieved. Nymeria would never abandon her. She would always be with her.

They entered the Godswood, and she stopped. Not only because of the nerves but also because the Godswood looked absolutely breathtaking. Her concerns forgotten for a moment until she saw people turning to look at her. She almost turned then, but she didn't. She held her head high, and started to move forward again.

She didn't look at anyone, kept her gaze straight, and she finally saw him. Her heart was beating so hard that it was a wonder that nobody around them heard it.

He was facing the heart tree, wearing the traditional black and yellow Baratheon cloak. The first thought that came to her mind was he was strong, with his impressive height and build. He had thick raven colored hair. He held himself so stiffly she feared that he was in some sort of pain. She could see the tension he carried on his shoulders. She knew how that felt.

Her heart was beating faster with every step she took towards him. All her thoughts, all her emotions were crashing against her mind. What if he wasn't as good as everyone believed him to be? What if he was like all the spoiled princes she had ever known? What if he refused her to keep Nymeria? What if-

She reached the heart tree, taking her place beside him. She wanted to look at him. Wanted to see for herself. She had forbidden herself to do that after the betrothal was announced. But now that they were standing in the Godswood, about to be married. She finally squared her shoulders and turned to look at him.

Stormy gray eyes met the brilliant blue, and she felt a sudden calmness settle over her. She saw his eyes widen slightly when he looked at her for the first time. She didn't know what he was thinking, she wanted to. She was not the kind of person who trusted someone just after meeting them, but there was something in his eyes that seemed to calm the storm inside her. Everything seemed quieter as she continued to look at him. She didn't know how long they stood there holding each other's gazes, but she didn't look away and neither did he.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: I Get To Love You -Ruelle  
> So what do you guys think?  
> First I would like to apologize in advance because this is the only chapter I have written because I promised myself that I won't start writing this fic until I finished I Keep Searching. So I started writing this way too late and have only written bits and pieces of the next chapters. I'm sorry I won't be able to update this everyday. But like always I promise I will finish this fic.  
> Happy Gendrya week guys xD  
> I hope you like it. Again I'm sorry for all my mistakes. Thank you so much for reading <3


	2. Caught Red-handed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank yous o much for you love and support guys <3 <3 It means a lot to me <3  
> I hope you like this chapter too <3

****Chapter 2: Caught Red-handed** **

The Winterfell godswood was abuzz with people and that only made him even more nervous. What if he somehow messed up? Uncle Renly had taught him what to say, what to do, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember a single word about the ceremony.

"You need to relax, son." Uncle Renly patted his shoulder. "It's just a few words, that's all. And even, if by any chance, you mess up," when he tensed further his uncle hurriedly added, "which I don't think you would, I'm right here."

He nodded stiffly. He didn't know why he was so nervous. It was a quick ceremony, and then he will be married. That was it. His heart was hammering so hard in his chest that it felt as if it was trying to flatten his ribs into a breastplate. He took a deep breath and stared at the heart tree, which seemed to calm him a bit. Every time the wind blew, he felt like someone was trying to talk to him, trying to soothe his nerves. But that was stupid, wind, trees, and the leaves don't talk.

The wind blew again, but this time it was a gentle breeze, and he couldn’t explain how, but he knew for certain that she was there. The crowd suddenly quieted down. His heart, once again, started to beat with renewed fervor. Even with the cold, he could feel his palms getting sweaty.

She stopped beside him, and a sweet fragrance drifted towards him. It felt familiar, her scent, her presence beside him. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and turned. It was finally time to meet his bride.

When he opened his eyes, he stilled. His eyes widened as he saw Arya Stark for the first time. She wore an ivory colored gown, and she looked absolutely breathtaking. He felt like he was in a dream. There was no other explanation for the woman standing in front of him. Such beauty only existed in tales and dreams. Her eyes were the most beautiful shade of gray he had ever seen, there was a fire in them, and it reminded him of the forge. He didn't think he was breathing, but his heart seemed to know who she was because it wasn’t beating hard anymore, and instead a calm settled around him. Something he hadn't felt in ages.

"Gendry?" Someone was calling his name. "Son, you have to say your words." It was Uncle Renly.

He didn't look away, neither did she.

"Who comes?" How his voice didn't waver, he had no idea. It was a miracle that he managed to remember what to say, when just a few moments back, he wouldn't have been able to tell his own name. She made him feel comfortable, secure, and he was startled by the realization. How was that possible? He just met Arya Stark, where does such feeling come from. "Who comes before the gods?"

He saw something flicker in her eyes as he spoke. Her lips parted slightly, and it took every ounce of self-control he possessed not to stare at her lips. Someone cleared their throat, making them both look away.

"Arya of House Stark comes here to wed. Who comes to wed her?" Ned Stark's clear voice rang through the godswood.

"Gendry of House Baratheon." Even after all this time, it still seemed weird, calling himself a Baratheon, belonging to a house, a family. "Who gives her?"

"Ned of House Stark, father of Arya Stark." Lord Stark turned to look at Arya, a gentle smile on his lips. "Arya, do you take this man?"

She looked at her father, and something flashed in her eyes. Fear? Desperation? He couldn't pinpoint because it was gone too soon. She lifted her chin and turned to look at him.

"I take this man." She said clearly. Her voice felt like music to his ears. How was it possible that this was the first time they had met. He felt a connection to her that could only be there with ages of knowing someone. He was confused, and he could see that she was too. She never looked away, but her eyes seemed to be searching for something in his. Like she was trying to figure out what this was. She sounded confident, there was no trace of doubt in her voice, but her eyes betrayed her calm facade. He could see that she was a little nervous, and sad, so sad that he wanted to do whatever he could to make her smile and to make those beautiful eyes gleam in amusement, in mischief, in happiness.

He extended his hand, and for a moment she started, mystified. She looked up at him and then it was as if she suddenly remembered what was happening, she took his hand. He could swear he felt a jolt when their hands touched, and the way her eyes had widened, he knew she felt it too. They knelt before the heart tree, bowing their heads. He still couldn't get the sad look in her eyes out of his mind. He squeezed her hand, trying to tell her that everything will work out for the best. He felt her stiffen slightly beside him, but after a moment she squeezed his hand back. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

They rose up after a moment. He hesitated for a breath before undoing Arya Stark's cloak, careful that he didn't touch her. She stilled when he took off the white wool cloak, with the sigil, Direwolf, of House Stark. She was looking at it longingly. He fastened the House Baratheon cloak, a black crowned stag on a golden field, around her shoulders. As soon as the cloak was fastened the winds blew, and a sudden hush settled across the godswood. He looked at Arya, who was staring at the tree in wonder. The winds ruffled the leaves in such a way that it felt like the old gods were blessing them.

It was done. Gendry Baratheon and Arya Stark were married.

*

"You look beautiful." These were the first words that Gendry had said directly to her. As the first words went, these weren’t bad. It was kind of him to say that.

"Thank you." She replied.

Once again, they lapsed into silence. She was picking at her food. She didn't really feel like eating. With every passing moment, the realization that this would be her last night at Winterfell settled in her, and she couldn't bear it. Couldn't bear the thought of this being the last time she was going to call Winterfell her home. Couldn't bear the thought that she had already visited godswood for the last time. She wasn't ready to leave Winterfell yet. She would do anything to stay. At least until she felt that she was ready, but deep down she knew that she would never be ready to leave her home.

"Are you feeling well?" His voice startled her out of her thoughts.

"Yes." She answered.

His voice filled her with a sense of calm. Even when she heard his voice for the first in the godswood, she felt something stir inside her. Made her feel at ease. She did not understand why. Why would his voice such an effect on her? Why would he have such an effect on her? She felt like she has known him for ages. That whatever it was between them it was deep, deeper than either of them could understand.

She turned to look at him. He was talking to Jon. She studied him. He wasn't a bad looking man, if anything he looked like something out of the tales of maidens and knights, with his raven colored hair, clear blue eyes, that seemed deeper than the oceans, and a strong build.

She shook her head. Why was she thinking about how he looked or how he was built. It didn't matter. This was a marriage of convenience, was it not? Both of them were told to do this. Somewhere in the back of her mind a question knocked, what did he think of her? She shook herself mentally. It doesn't matter.

She went back to picking at her food. She was deep in her thoughts, trying to think of ways she could delay leaving Wintefell when someone shouted bedding. She felt Gendry stiffen beside her and her heart-beat came to a staggering stop. Because of all the things with the wedding, and leaving Winterfell and her family, she had absolutely forgotten about the bedding. Both before and after.

She grabbed the fork tightly. She cursed herself for not carrying Needle, again. The first person who tries to undress her is going to get stabbed in the eye with the fork. She felt a hand on her, and she turned, raising the fork to hurt whoever it was. Her shoulders sagged in relief when she saw it was Jon and Robb, behind them Bran and Rickon were standing with Summer and Shaggydog. She felt relief course through her.

Before anyone could say anything, Robb and Jon grabbed her hand and ran towards her room, with Bran, Rickon, Summer and Shaggydog standing guard so that no one followed them. She laughed out loud.

"He is still there." She said when they finally reached her chamber.

"I think he can handle a few ladies." Robb chuckled.

Jon nodded. "He will be fine. In fact, he asked us to do this when someone yelled-" Jon trailed off realizing what it was. Which reminded her of what was about to happen and her stomach tied itself in knots. She knew all about the bedding. She was there when mother told Sansa about it when she was getting married to Lord Willas Tyrell. And since she refused to talk about the wedding with anyone, her mother never got a chance to make everyone uncomfortable with bedding talks. She was twenty. She lived in a castle. Of course she knew what happens between a man and a woman.

Robb cleared his throat. "We are going to go now. His trunks have been placed in your chamber, if-"

She stopped listening after Robb said that his trunks were in her chamber. She waved them off as a brilliant plan started to form in her mind. She knew how she was going to delay leaving Winterfell.

*

She peeked out of her chamber looking left and right to see if anyone was wandering the corridor. When she saw no one, she smiled, and let Nymeria in quietly. He wasn't here either yet. The slightly grown-up part of her mind was telling her to not do what she was about to do, but she ignored it. She was going to delay leaving as much as she can, at least till she was ready.

She quietly opened his trunk. With Needle in one hand, she picked up one of his clothes efficiently tearing it. She looked at Nymeria and grinned. "You know what to do."

Nymeria launched herself, taking out a few of his clothes in one go.

It was a brilliant plan if she could say so herself. He couldn't leave if he didn't have clothes, could he? And she could actually innocently tell everyone that Nymeria had done it. Seeing how tall and broad he was they couldn't just give him anyone's clothes so they would have to sew some new ones, and it would take at least a fortnight. But she wasn't cruel. She picked one tunic, which reminded her of his eyes and another which looked well worn, and blushing slightly, a few of his small clothes, and placed them in her wardrobe. He needed at least something to wear. She needed to hurry up, or else she could get caught. She wasn't afraid of him, but getting caught would be incredibly embarrassing.

She was taking out his things and studying them, for a moment she completely forgot about her genius plan. There was a knife at the bottom of the trunk. She picked it up and studied it. It was absolutely beautiful. It had a delicate design on the hilt. She was awestruck at the craftsmanship. Whoever made this was obviously very gifted. She heard Nymeria growl and looked up to see at least four of his tunics' were wound around her neck. Chuckling she removed them. She held the last one, amazed at how huge it was. Of course it was huge, she chided herself. It was as if his shoulder was as broad as her legs were long and that was only a mild exaggeration. That man radiated strength and power. Kindness too, she added after remembering the way he had squeezed her hand in the godswood, the silent understanding in his eyes when he fastened the Baratheon cloak around her, and what Jon had told her about him asking them to take her back to her room. Her heart softened. She looked around the room, realizing a little too late that she shouldn't have done this. He was a good man. He didn't deserve this. She felt guilt rising in her chest.

She was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't hear the giggles of women. She also didn't hear the door of her chamber opening and closing.

"Seven hells." She heard him gasp.

She froze. She didn't want to get caught, and yet she ended up being caught. His tunic was still in her hand which she hurriedly dropped. She can make this work. She could explain, that she was trying to stop Nymeria. Yes, that was what she was going to do.

"Uh." She started, trying to come up with some explanation.

She turned to look at him and stopped dead in her tracks when she saw that he was just in his small clothes and anything she thought she was possibly going to say got lost somewhere between her mind forming the words, and those words reaching her lips.

"What are you doing?" He asked, frowning, looking at his clothes strewn about the chamber, with one of his tunics' still hanging from Nymeria's jaws.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you guys think? I really hope you liked it. Again I'm sorry for all my mistakes. Thank you so much for reading <3 <3


	3. It's a Sign

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your beautiful comments and Kudos. You guys are so awesome!!  
> I hope you like this chapter too <3

****Chapter 3: It's a Sign** **

She didn't think her mind was working properly. He was in his small clothes, and the voice at the back of her mind was telling her to look away. That it wasn't proper to stare. She squashed that voice. His body seemed to be carved out of stone, every inch of him looked perfect. From his wide shoulders to his muscular arms to the hard planes of his chest and stomach. He looked like a man that she sometimes heard women fantasizing about. If looking away was the proper thing then it was a good thing that she had never been proper.

Her gaze started to drift lower when she heard him calling her, but she didn't think her mind was registering anything.

"My Lady?" That her mind did register. Her eyes snapped back to his.

"Do not call me My Lady." She said through gritted teeth. But at least now her gaze didn't wander. If anything she should thank him for calling her ‘My Lady’ or else her gaze would still be…she stopped herself from going any further. She flushed.

He didn't reply, instead asked, "What happened here?"

If anything her cheeks went an even brighter shade of red. "Umm.. That, I let Nymeria-"

"Arya. Can I call you Arya?" He said suddenly.

She frowned, then rolled her eyes. "That is my name, My Lord." She added cheekily.

"I'm not a Lord yet." He said waving his hand as he moved closer to her. All she wanted was to take a step back, but she didn't. He was standing in front of her, and she had to crane her neck to look at him properly.

Why was he so tall? Her heart should not be beating this hard. Surely it was not healthy. Their gazes met, and her breath hitched. He leaned forward.  

"What are you doing?" She squeaked. What was wrong with her voice? She never sounded like this. First her heart, and now her voice, surely she was coming down with something. She should go and see Maester Luwin.

He bent down and picked up the tunic that she had been holding a few moments back. She was pretty sure that she was blushing again.

"Picking this up." He said seriously, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. "As I was going to ask, Arya," she felt a shiver run down her spine when he said her name, but that could be the chill. "Why would you do this?" He asked calmly.

She sputtered. "I would never-Nymeria-I don't need to explain myself-"

Of all the things she might have expected him to do chuckling was definitely not one of them, and for some reason, she felt even more embarrassed.

"I know you don't need to explain yourself to me. I just asked why? And I would appreciate it if you don't lie. We just got married, and I don't think lying is a good way to start any relationship."

She was stunned. He was right. She didn't want to start their marriage, and whatever it was between them, with a lie, but how in Gods name is he not angry? Almost all his clothes were destroyed. Then another thought struck her. Why was Nymeria not growling at him? She hadn't growled even when he entered the chamber. She looked back at him, curious.

“Why is Nymeria not growling at you?” She blurted out.

He looked from her to Nymeria, giving Nymeria a soft smile. “Jon introduced us.”

That explained everything. Looks like Nymeria liked him too.

"So why?" He said sitting at the edge of the bed still holding the tunic. She was trying her best to not to let her eyes stray from his face. Why was the simple task proving to be so hard?

Now that she was about to explain it, she cursed herself for not listening to the mature part of her brain.

"I thought," she took a deep breath. For some reason, she did not want him to hate her. She didn't know why. "I thought if your things were, you know, then I won't have to leave Winterfell tomorrow."

"That is it?" He asked gently.

Her eyes widened as she looked at him. He still didn't sound angry, if anything he sounded understanding. She nodded.

"And you didn't destroy your clothes because.."

"Well, my family would have known it was me. And I'm certain they have an extra trunk of clothes somewhere." She mumbled.

To her surprise, he chuckled again. "And now they won't suspect you?"

"Well, I was going to tell them Nymeria didn't want to leave." She said defensively.

He looked at Nymeria and smiled. "Nymeria cannot hold a sword, and some of these," he picked up the tunic showing her the smooth tears in the fabric, "are obviously done by some sort of a blade."

"I didn't have much time to plan." She groused. "I was just thinking about-"

"Not leaving your home." He completed, his voice gentle.

They sat there in silence.

"It wasn't a bad plan." He said, his lips quirking up.

"I know." She found her own lips curving.

"You don't want to leave?" He asked. He was waiting for her answer, but she simply shook her head. Not knowing what to say that won't sound childish. She wasn't ready to say farewell to Winterfell and her family just yet.

He studied her silently, and for some reason, she got the impression that he knew what she was thinking about.

"Then we won't. Until you are ready." He said.

Once again, she was stunned. Before the wedding, she wondered what kind of a person would he be, and if they will get along. Maybe this was a sign. Maybe they will get along just fine.

"You know, I will still need some clothes." He said, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"I may have saved some of your clothes." She replied sheepishly.

She hurriedly went to take out the tunic and breeches and the small clothes she kept in the wardrobe. Glad he couldn't see her face because she was pretty sure she was blushing, again.

"That is awfully kind of you, My Lady." He said amused.

She knew he was calling her My Lady to get a rise out of her, but she couldn't help herself. "Stop calling me that."

"As My Lady commands." He said, bowing, taking his clothes from her hand.

*

As soon as he was dressed, he saw such relief in Arya's features, and a little disappointment, that he bit back a smile. Maybe she was not affected as he was, but she was a bit affected by him. He never expected tonight's bedding to end with anything between them. He must've known Arya Stark for only a half a day, but he was certain that she would not want him to touch her. Especially, since this was the first time they have met.

He took a pillow and was about to move nearer to the fireplace when Arya called him.

"What are you doing?" She asked sharply.

He looked at her and saw that she was holding her stiffly like she thought he would- he shook his head. She doesn't know him. Of course, she thought her husband would consummate the marriage, and not care if she was willing.

"Sleeping near the fire." He said, nodding towards the fireplace. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

She visibly relaxed. But he thought he saw something in her eyes. Something like acceptance. But maybe that was just something he wanted to see.

He turned to make his makeshift bed when she spoke again.

"You can sleep on the bed with me." She said so quietly that he almost missed it.

He turned to look at her, surprised.

"I meant, we can sleep on our sides of the bed." She clarified, blushing up a storm.

One day he was going to tell her that she looked adorable blushing, but he didn't think she would appreciate it tonight.

He searched her eyes for any sign of discomfort but found none. "Are you certain? Because I don't have a problem sleeping-"

"No." She said, turning hurriedly. So that he doesn't see her expression, he guessed. "It's cold here, and the fire will go out after a few hours. I don't want you to get sick."

He was touched by her thoughtfulness. He was moving towards the bed when she suddenly said, "Please tell me you don’t sleep naked."

Now she wasn't the only one blushing. He could feel his face getting warm. He slept without his shirt, but he wasn't going to tell her that. Especially, when she so graciously offered to share her bed.

"No."

*

"I apologize for destroying your clothes," Arya said, sitting on the opposite end of the bed.

He shrugged. "Who needs that many clothes anyway and you saved all the important things. That was kind of you."

He used to have a couple of pair of clothes when he used to be an apprentice. One which he used to work in and the other which he saved for special occasions. Now he had more than enough, some he hadn't even touched, thanks to his Uncle Renly.

She looked up at him in surprise, then chuckled. His breath caught in his throat. Arya Stark was the most beautiful woman he had seen, but smiling Arya Stark was...breathtaking. The way her eyes crinkled were adorable. When she noticed him looking, she sobered.

"Can I ask you something?" She asked drawing her legs up and turned to face him.

He turned to face her, drawing his legs up too. "Anything."

She flushed as her eyes flicked to his trunk then back at him. It was the most endearing sight he had ever seen.

"Well, as you know, I was going through your stuff," she looked up at him to see his reaction. He nodded, smiling, for her to continue. "There was this beautiful knife at the bottom of the trunk. I wanted to ask you if you knew who made it and if you do, could you ask them to make one for me too?" She bit her lips. She was obviously nervous.

He was stunned. Arya liked his work. He wasn't sure his heart was working after hearing the praise.

"Uh, Gendry?" Arya said.

"I apologize. Yes, I know who it is." He replied smiling.

Her eyes twinkled with excitement making his supposedly not working heart soar in his chest. "Will he make one for me?"

"Yes, he would. Definitely."

Suddenly the excitement in her eyes dimmed, and instead, a frown took over. "But then we will have to wait till we get to Storm's end."

She said we, not him. We, he liked the sound of that.

"No." He grinned.

"No?" She asked, confused.

"We can make one here at the Winterfell forge." He said, pleased to see the excitement return once more.

"He is here! Can I meet him?" She asked excitedly.

He felt a slight twinge of jealousy. He chided himself, reminding himself that it was him that she was talking about meeting with.

He cleared his throat. "You already know him."

Her eyes narrowed in concentration. "I would have remembered. I don't remember-"

"Me." He confessed. "I made it."

Her eyes widened. Her mouth opened then closed.

"You made it?" She asked impressed, and warmth spread in his chest.

"I did. I was Master Mott's apprentice before being legitimized."

"You used to live in flea bottom?" She asked. There was no judgement in her voice, but still he felt his heart sinking. What if she thought less of him? He didn't want her to. He had always been proud of the work he learned and wouldn't trade it for anything.

"I hope one day you will tell me about your Master and flea bottom and teach me a few tricks. Septa Mordane always said I had the hands of a blacksmith." She said smiling softly, lifting her hands to show him her palms.

His heart stuttered. He had been wondering, how she would react when she found out about his past. This was a sign that Arya Stark was the most beautiful person he had ever met. Inside and out.

He took her hands in his, noticing the way she took in a surprised breath. "These soft little things."

No one said a word for a while. The only sound in the chamber was of them breathing, and Nymeria chewing something. She looked at him through her lashes, and he felt himself moving closer. The room felt warm despite the cold. His thumb was gently stroking the back of her hand. He saw her gulp. Her pulse was fluttering wildly at the hollow of her throat. Her eyes darkened, and she leaned forward.

A sound of something falling broke them out of each other's spell. He drew back, giving her space. She blushed, but she was also looking at him curiously. Trying to deduce something.

"We should probably sleep." She murmured after a while, shifting to her side of the bed.

He nodded, taking a deep breath. Trying to calm his nerves. "We should." He agreed.

They both lay stiffly on their sides. Careful not to touch each other. His mind, and body, was still reeling from what they were about to do just moments ago.

"Sleep well, Gendry." She murmured softly.

"You too, My Lady." He said as softly as he could.

The only indication that she heard him was the groan she let out after he called her ‘My Lady’. He smiled as he relaxed and found himself drifting to sleep. His dreams were filled with gray eyes looking at him with love and adoration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you guys think?   
> How awesome are all the fics of axgweek!   
> I know I'm way behind, sorry.   
> I can't say this enough, YOU GUYS ARE ABSOLUTELY AWESOME!! <3<3<3  
> I really hope you liked it. Again I'm sorry for all my mistakes. Thank you so much for reading <3 <3


	4. Eavesdropper

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so amazing!! Thank you so much for all your lovely comments and Kudos <3 <3 It means the world to me.  
> I hope you like this chapter too <3

****Chapter 4: Eavesdropper** **

She felt warm. Her back was against something solid. She frowned. Nymeria's fur was smooth, and Nymeria felt soft. An arm was around her waist. She froze. She turned to hit whoever had crawled into bed with her when she remembered that it was Gendry. Her back pressed against his chest, and every point of contact felt oversensitive. She felt her cheeks heating. If he woke up now, they would both end up being incredibly embarrassed. As quietly as she could, she got out of the bed. He almost woke up when she removed his arm, he was slightly frowning, but she hushed him back to sleep.

She found Nymeria at the foot of the bed still chewing on his clothes.

"Eat something other than that, Nymeria." She whispered, chuckling.

She turned to look at him. He was nothing as she expected. Truth be told she never expected much. But he surprised her. She remembered the look he got in his eyes when he told her that he used to live at flea bottom. He thought she would think less of him. He didn't know her, but it still hurt. But she knew she had given him a satisfactory reply because the look in his eyes changed. He looked surprised, awed.

She studied him carefully. He was certainly a handsome man, she admitted to herself. It wasn't a secret. She had heard the gossip and the woman talking about him. She thought they could get her excited about the wedding, so she didn't pay them attention to them. But as it turned out, they were right about him. His black hair was tousled, and her fingers itched to smooth it back. Or simply run her fingers through them to see if they were as soft as they looked. There was a frown etched between his brows, and she wanted to make it disappear.

A soft knock drew her out of her haze. She checked if the knock had woken him up. Breathing a sigh of relief when she saw he was still asleep. She hurriedly made her way to the door before whoever it was could knock again.

She opened the door, and Sansa's smiling face greeted her. It was too early for anyone to look this chipper. She groaned internally when she realized that she must look like- she felt her cheeks heat- like it was the next day of the bedding.

"I see that everything went well. Beyond well, judging by the color in your cheeks." Sansa teased.

"Shut up." She mumbled. She didn't plan on telling anyone that nothing happened. Even she knew that some things were between a husband and wife. And she absolutely refused to think about how between last night and this morning she started to think of him as a husband.

"Did it not?" Sansa's smile dropped. Worry clouding her features.

"Oh no. It went great. I can barely stand." She said hurriedly. "What is it? He is still asleep."

Sansa's smile returned, if anything, it went even more sly. "You are in a hurry. I understand. Mother and father asked me to tell you that both of you are to break your fast with us in the great hall."

She rolled her eyes. "Where else were we supposed to do that?"

"Who knows, you two may have worked up an appetite, and so you wanted to eat in your chamber. Nobody will judge you."

Oh gods. She was pretty certain that her face was on fire. "Shut up."

Sansa's smile went sober. "Tell me, Arya. Is he good to you?"

That question relaxed her because she knew she had nothing to hide there. "Yes. Very. He is a good man, Sansa."

*

He was trying his best not to hear anything. It was a conversation between two sisters. It isn't meant for his ears, and he was doing quite well too. Until he heard Lady Sansa's ask Arya if he was good to her. He couldn't help himself. He held his breath, waiting for Arya to answer.

"Yes. Very. He is a good man, Sansa." Arya said quietly.

He felt a warmth spread through him. He let out the breath he had been holding. He couldn't help the smile that took over his lips. Something warm nuzzled against his back. He turned and saw Nymeria. Chuckling, he patted her head.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked softly, running his hands through her soft fur.

"I apologize if Nymeria woke you up," Arya said sincerely.

He didn't think it was possible, but she looked even more beautiful. Her hair was tousled, a small smile on her lips. Her cheeks went a delightful shade of pink.

Arya cleared her throat. And he felt his own face flush.

"No." He said hurriedly. Running his hand through his hair, trying to calm his racing heart. "I was about to anyway. Who was it?"

"Oh that. It was Sansa. My parents want us to break our fast with them. Where else were we supposed to do that?" She said shaking her head.

He looked at her. His brows raised and she went an even deeper shade of red. Even her neck was red, and it didn't look like it ended there. He wanted to see how far the blush extended. He gulped and shook his head. He needed to stop thinking about it.

"I'm going to...get ready." She said hurriedly. Not looking at him, she left.

He dragged his hand over his face and groaned. They were doing so well. He just had to ruin it.

*

She was sure her heart wasn't planning on calming down in this century. First Sansa and her stupid suggestions and then Gendry and his raised eyebrows. His raised eyebrows on top of his disheveled hair were doing things to her. How can stupid eyebrows have such an effect on her? It may have been the look in his eyes, she admitted. She remembered how his gaze went darker. She groaned as she sank down further into the hot water. No one had the right to look like he did, especially right after waking up. She was certain she looked like a bird had made a nest in her hair, and there he was, looking like...looking like him.

Her body felt overly warm. She should have asked for cold water. She needed to stop thinking about him. They just met yesterday.

Then why did it feel like they have known each other forever.

*

After they ate, Gendry went to talk with Lord Renly. To tell him that they would be staying at Winterfell for some time. Once again, she felt her heart flutter when she remembered him saying that they would stay till she felt ready. He didn't have to do that. Most people would never have but he did, and she was grateful. She wasn't lying when she told Sansa that he was a good man.

At the moment, she was hiding from her sister, Meera, and Jeyne. Because all they wanted to talk about was last night, and the first image that popped into her head was him standing in his small clothes. Which reminded her of the fact that she needed to talk to her father about getting him some new clothes. She still didn't know what she was going to say, but she wasn't worried. She will come up with something. Something plausible.

"I knew you were going to say that." Came Lord Renly's voice.

She didn't realize that she was almost at the chamber where Lord Renly had been staying.

"No, you didn't. Even I didn't know it." And she knew Gendry was rolling his eyes, which made her smile.

"No, I didn't." Renly agreed. "Well, as much as I would have loved to stay for a few more moon's turns, I would have to leave. Storm's End needs at least one of us. Few of our men would stay back, and I'm certain Lord Stark would send some of his men whenever the two of you are ready to leave."

Her heart didn't stop when Lord Renly said whenever they were ready. It was curious. But she didn't think much of it. It was still whenever and not a fixed date.

"Uh, uncle." Gendry started hesitatingly.

"Yes, nephew."

Why was she still standing there? She shouldn't be listening to their conversation.

"Umm, I would need some new clothes."

She almost laughed out loud. She shouldn't be laughing. This was her fault. But the hesitation and the awkwardness in his voice was so endearing that she couldn't help but smile.

"What happened to your old ones?" Lord Renly asked.

"They got-" Destroyed because she came up with the worst thought out plan in the history of plans. "I can't wear them because they are torn."

A loud laugh surprised her.

"Gendry, son, save some things for later in your marriage when things get dull." Lord Renly was still chuckling.

She frowned. Then she understood what he was trying to say. Oh Gods. She felt her cheeks heat.

"Uncle!" Gendry said, exasperated.

She was pretty certain that he must be blushing too. Which Lord Renly confirmed a moments later.

"Look at you blushing like a maid. I'm not the one who tore all their clothes on their first night."

And she thought Sansa, Meera and Jeyne we're bad. She was certain that in a few days her face is going to permanently turn red, given the frequency with which she was blushing.

"Don't worry. I had a few extra made for you, just in case. They must be in the trunks that were already loaded. So I'll get them to you." Lord Renly said.

"Thank you, Uncle." Gendry sounded grateful, which she thought was mostly because Lord Renly had stopped teasing him.

*

It had been a week since Lord Renly, and most of his party had left for Storm's End. The night they left, she was up most of the night, so that she won't wake up near him again. But her efforts were futile. Because when she woke up, he was yet again holding her against him. But it wasn't just her who woke up, he did too. To say it was awkward would be an understatement. He went red and kept on apologizing. The next night both of them tossed and turned the whole night, but the next morning they were again in the middle of the bed. His arm around her waist, her face pressed against her chest. She sighed. Each night they tried to sleep on their end of the bed, but somehow during the night would wind up in the middle. She wouldn't admit it out loud, but she was getting used to it, to him. The way his hand draped across her waist, his warmth. Even he stopped blushing after three days. She enjoyed his company. Liked talking to him. Liked simply sitting with in silence as they sat in the godswood with Nymeria sitting at their feet.

Gendry told her that he had started working on her knife and that she was welcome to see him make it. So she was on her way to the forge to watch him work.

*

Her muscles were sore. She should not have trained so hard. She didn't know where this pent-up frustration inside her came from. All she remembered was she went to the forge, saw Gendry. He was once again shirtless, but unlike the night of their wedding, he was covered in soot and sweat, if anything making his muscles look even more defined. She had felt the heat stirring in her body, and now that she was thinking about it, she felt warm all over once again. She had been rooted to the spot, her mouth hanging open. It wasn't until she heard someone yelling that she looked away. She remembered being thankful and yet at the same time she wanted to hurt whoever had yelled. So she grabbed the first person she could find to spar. But even after hours of sparring she still felt a, she didn't know how to explain it, it was a need, a sort of ache. And now her muscles were hurting. She had gone to the kitchen on her way back, telling them she would need hot water for bathing. So she really hoped that it was there in her chamber or her aching muscles were going to curse her into oblivion.

She sighed in relief when she saw the tub filled with steaming water. Few extra pails of water were lined near the tub. And a few pails were placed near the entrance. She quickly stripped and walked towards the tub. As soon as she lowered herself, she sighed in contentment. Her muscles relaxed, even though her mind was still on him. But the ache she had been feeling, ever since she saw Gendry at the forge, was still there. Maybe if she stopped thinking about him, and his stupid perfect body, it would go away.

*

Gendry was sure Arya came by the forge, but when he turned, she wasn’t there. Maybe the heat was too much for her. But he was still worried. He wanted to see for himself that she was well. So he threw over a tunic, washed his face and made his way towards their chamber.

When he reached their chamber, he knocked lightly, but no answer came. Maybe she wasn’t there. He was about to leave to search for her elsewhere when he heard a sound coming from inside. He opened the door hurriedly, fearing that she was so ill that she couldn’t call out.

“Arya!” He called out when he saw that she wasn’t on the bed.

“Gendry?!” She sounded shocked, and a little panicked.

He didn’t think twice before moving towards the sound of her voice. In hindsight, he should have. He ignored the pails of water as he made his way towards Arya. A sloshing sound came.

“Don’t come in.” She called out.

But it was too late. He did go in, and now he was rooted to the spot. His feet refused to move. His mouth was hanging open as he looked at Arya. Flawless. Arya Stark was flawless. Her skin was pale and looked soft. His fingers itched to confirm if it was really as soft as it looked. He tried to tell himself that he should look away because she would not appreciate it but it was as if his eyes had a mind of their own. The soft curves of her-

“Gendry!” Their eyes met, and he hurriedly turned. Stumbling upon one of the pails, he righted himself before he could fall. “I’m naked and wet. What are you doing standing there?”

“I apologize.” He said sheepishly. “I thought you were- I’ll leave now.”

He hurriedly made his way out.  But now he did know how far the blush extended.

*

When Jon first heard about Gendry, he never thought he would become such good friends with him. In many ways they were similar both bastards, both didn't usually talk much. Maybe that was why they got along so well. And now he was Jon's good brother, and Jon couldn't think of anyone more suited for Arya than him.

Jon was making his way to Arya and Gendry's chamber. Father had asked him to call them as he wanted to tell everyone something. And besides, he also wanted to talk to Gendry and Robb about the girl he met. He found himself smiling stupidly as he thought about her. He couldn't wait to tell them about her. He was at their door when he heard a dull thud coming from inside followed by Arya yelling.

"Gendry! I'm naked and wet. What are you doing st-"

No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No.

He pivoted and, as fast as his feet could carry him, made his way back to the great hall. He was not going to listen to that. Everything he needed to tell them can wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you guys think?   
> Once again I'm so sorry for posting every chapter so late.   
> Again, I'm sorry for all my mistakes. Thank you so much for reading <3 <3


	5. Bad Pick-Up Lines

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so freaking amazing!! Thank you so, so, so much for the beautiful comments and kudos <3  
> I hope you like this chapter too <3

****Chapter 5: Bad Pick-Up Lines** **

That stupid man. What was so difficult to understand in the phrase, 'Don't come in'? What was so fucking hard to understand? Because now it felt like they were in a tourney. A tourney of blushing and somehow they were both losing to Jon. It wasn't as if they weren't blushing, if anything, she was pretty certain that her face has permanently changed its color to red. Gendry wasn't even looking at her. His ears were so red that it looked like someone had painted them. And yet, somehow Jon was worse. He wouldn't look at either of them. If anything, he looked like he wanted to bury his head in a barrel of water like he wanted to wash away some memory.

"We," her father started looking at her mother. Her mother, now that Arya noticed, looked like a weight had been  lifted off her shoulders, "have come to a decision."

She looked at her siblings to see if anyone knew what father was talking about. But everyone looked clueless.

"It may be a little late." He looked a little sad but then smiled softly. "We have decided that it's high time we legitimize Jon." He gave Jon a proud smile.

Her heart leapt into her throat. There was absolute silence. Jon was frozen in his place, his mouth hanging open, his eyes shining with unshed tears. She looked at her siblings, who were all standing with their eyes wide open. Gendry was smiling as he patted Jon's back. Happiness bubbled inside her. With a shriek, she ran towards Jon almost knocking him over with the force of her embrace. It was as if everyone came out of their joint stupor then. Robb laughed loudly and hugged Jon too. Rickon, Bran, and Sansa joined them.

"You all are going to suffocate him." her father said with a chuckle.

*

Arya was incredibly happy. It never mattered to her, Jon being a bastard. He was and always will be her best brother. Father told them that there was going to be a feast in a few days. Jon would be given some land holdings, and in a few years, he would become a proper Lord. She was sad that he would be leaving Winterfell one day, but then again, so would she.

She halted suddenly. When did that happen? The thought of leaving Winterfell used to fill her with so much anger and dread, but now it seemed that deep down she had come to peace with the fact that she would. What happened? She asked herself once again, and Gendry's face flashed in her mind.

"Arya?! Are you well?" She felt his hand on her shoulder, making her jump in surprise.

"I apologize. I didn't mean to scare you." Gendry said, raising his hands.

She nodded. Her heart still beating faster than it should. She could still feel his touch on her shoulder, and for a moment she wondered how it would feel against her bare skin. His hand would definitely be warm. She felt a delicious shiver run down her spine. A warmth spread through her body.

"Arya." He said, his voice low.

She froze. What if he knew what she was thinking about? Her face burned at the thought. She looked at him hesitatingly. One look at him confirmed that he definitely knew what she was thinking about. And to think she was mortified before.

"I have to- Sansa- Jon- someone is calling-" she started to make excuses. Any excuse to leave, but her mind wasn't cooperating, and apparently, neither was her body because she was still standing in front of him.

Her breath hitched as he moved forward, his eyes seeming even darker. She wanted to take a step back, but she didn't, couldn't because her feet wouldn't move. His proximity was doing things to her. She wanted to walk into his arms. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair. She wanted to press her lips against his. She wanted to-

His fingers gently trailed along her cheek, and her eyes fluttered closed. She could feel the heat emanating from him, making her tremble. His fingers moved under her chin and gently tilted her head. She held her breath, waiting for his lips to touch hers. The anticipation building with every passing moment. After a moment, she opened her eyes and saw nothing but love and desire, for her, in his eyes.

"May I?" He asked, his eyes flicking down to her lips.

Before she could say yes, she heard an exasperated, "For the love of God!" Making Gendry drop his hand to his side. They stepped back. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. When she opened her eyes, she saw Jon hurriedly moving away, shaking his head and talking to himself. She looked at Gendry, who looked a little frustrated, a little disappointed, and a little embarrassed. She was too.

"I should-" they said in unison.

"I think mother was calling me." She said hurriedly, her cheeks burning.

"I think Jon was calling me." He said at the same moment, the tips of his ear were red too. "I should-"

She nodded. "So should I."

With one last look at each other, they hurriedly walked away.

*

Gendry was still reeling from the almost kiss. And that wasn't it. Every time he closed his eyes, he could, as clear as day, see her when she got out of the tub. The image was seared into his mind. He was doing everything he could to not think about it. But he was failing. Spectacularly.

When he saw her standing still in the corridor, he called her name, but she didn’t reply. At first, he thought that she was angry with him, she had every right to be. But she would’ve have shown some indication that she heard him, a slight stiffening of her shoulder or walking away. But nothing. That was why he thought she wasn't well. But the look in her eyes that soon followed took his breath away. He couldn't help himself. He wanted to kiss her. And he knew that she wanted to too. But Jon chose that moment to walk in. He groaned in frustration. Jon was his friend, and Gendry was really happy for him because if anyone knew how it felt to be legitimized, it would be him. But Jon had really, really horrible timing.

"Gendry." He heard Robb calling him.

He turned and saw Robb and Jon making their way towards him. Jon wouldn't look at him. The look on Jon's face almost made him laugh.

"We are going to celebrate with some fine Dornish wine," Robb said grinning broadly.

Gendry didn't drink, but he was touched that they wanted him to join them in their celebration. He nodded and followed them.

*

Robb was a little drunk. And one thing that Gendry noticed was that drunk Robb liked to talk and impart wisdom. A lot.

"Girls like it when you are clever with words," Robb said, grinning. His speech slurring, slightly.

"They do?" Gendry asked, interested.

"They do," Jon confirmed.

"This is how I made Jeyne laugh when I first met her, and at that moment I knew, I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her," Robb said, a smile on his lips. He was clearly thinking about the day he met Lady Jeyne.

This was great. If he could learn, or just get a gist of what to say. Maybe he could impress Arya and, gods willing, make her laugh. He would do anything to make her laugh. He loved her smile. The way she scrunched up her nose, the way her eyes crinkled, the way her eyes lit up. He loved the way her breath hitched, the way her eyes went darker. He loved h-

"Gendry? Are you listening?" Jon asked, slightly concerned.

"I apologize. I was just thinking about-" these were her brothers, he reminded himself. "Nothing. What were you saying?"

Both of them looked at him knowingly, but Jon did get a look in eyes like he wanted to stand in the middle of the storm so that whatever memory just entered his mind would just blow away.

"Nothing, just some instances of being clever with words," Robb said, throwing Jon a weird look.

Seven hells. He wanted to know.

He cleared his throat. "Like?" He tried to be as casual as he could.

Robb gave him a lopsided grin. "Once I used, I have lost something. Will you help me find it?" Gendry looked at him confused. How was asking someone’s help to search something playful or funny? "When she asked what did I lose? I answered, my heart."

Oh. Gendry chuckled. It sounded stupid and yet somehow funny and charming. He could see how that would work.

Jon cleared his throat. "Once a girl told me that she liked my breeches, but she would like them even better on the floor."

Gendry laughed. He finally understood what they meant. The one he wanted to say to Arya was already clearly forming in his head.

"I am definitely going to use that on Jeyne," Robb said laughing, as he drained another cup.

*

He was going back to their chamber. He won't lie. He was nervous. What if she didn't think it was funny. He tried to block all the thoughts that were making him more and more anxious with every passing moment.

When he entered the chamber, he saw Arya sitting on the floor beside Nymeria. She was saying something to Nymeria but stopped when she noticed him.

"Where were you?" She asked, scratching Nymeria behind her ear.

"With Robb and Jon." He said. He placed himself on the other side of Nymeria.

"May I ask you something?" He asked before he could lose his nerves.

Arya shrugged. "Anything."

He took a deep breath.

"Are you King's Landing?" He said, not letting the nerves get the better of him.

Arya frowned. "What?" She looked at him confused. "Why?"

Because you make me feel warm. Because you make me feel warm. He repeated in his mind. He will not screw this up. Because you make me feel warm.

"Because you make me sweat." As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to disappear into thin air, or bang his head against the anvil in the forge. Maybe that will help his mind to convey the same words he wanted to say to his lips. Why did the gods hate him? It wasn't that hard. But no. Apparently, he could not say a simple sentence without messing it up.

"Ummm, I apologize?" Arya said uncertainly.

Gendry groaned. "That wasn't- it came out wrong. I was trying to be clever with words, but instead, I did the complete opposite." He ended with a sigh.

Arya chuckled sympathetically. "It was funny. Who taught you?"

"Well, Robb and Jon gave me some examples, and I came with that on my own. Not exactly that-"

"What did you originally wanted to say?" She asked placing her hand over his. The place where her hand touched his felt warm. Familiar. Comforting.

"Uh. Are you King's Landing? Because you make me feel warm." He mumbled.

When she didn't say anything but her grip on his hand tightened, he turned to look at her. Her eyes were wide and seemed darker.

She cleared her throat. "That was really nice."

"If only I used that." He muttered, rolling his eyes.

She chuckled lightly. Her hand was still over his. He looked at her and saw that she was in deep thought.

"I got one too." She said after a moment, her lips quirking up.

He nodded. His heart was beating hard against his chest.

"Are you Winterfell?" She asked.

"Why?" He asked grinning.

Her voice dropped, becoming almost sultry. "Because you make me shiver."

Seven hells. His mouth dropped open, making her giggle.

"I have to say, My Lady, you are much better than your brothers at this." He said chuckling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you guys think?   
> This chapter was really hard. The only thing I was sure of were the pick-up lines xD Finally last night inspiration struck and here it is.  
> I really hope you liked it. Again I'm sorry for all my mistakes. Thank you so much for reading <3 <3


	6. Dancing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the love and support guys. It means the world to me <3 <3  
> I hope you like this chapter too <3 Enjoy xD

**Chapter 6: Dancing**

She woke up missing the familiar warmth enveloping her. Every day she was getting used to waking up in Gendry's arms and the soft, loving smile he gave her in the morning. Those moments, they felt precious. Intimate.

She patted the bed beside her, searching for Gendry, but it was empty. She frowned. Where was Gendry? It wasn't like him to leave before they both wake up. It had become a sort of tradition for them. She rubbed her eyes, sitting up. Her eyes swept the room as she tried ran her fingers through her hair trying to untangle it a bit. Gendry was sitting beside Nymeria reading something. There was a small smile on lips. He sighed then turned to look at her. She gave him a small smile which he returned. He ruffled Nymeria's fur as he got up and made his way towards her.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked, folding the parchment that he had been reading.

"Very." She answered. "What were you reading?"

"A Raven arrived from Storm's End." He chuckled. "Uncle Renly says he misses me."

He shook his head in affection, but she saw the sadness in his eyes. She knew he missed Renly too. Her heart clenched. For someone who claimed to love her home so much that she was willing to do everything to delay leaving, she didn't seem to notice that he would be away from his home too. And he never complained. Not once. He did whatever he needed to do to make her comfortable, to make her happy. Her chest tightened as the realization hit her.

"Arya, stop." He said sitting in front of her.

"I apo-" she started, wanting to apologize. He had gone above and beyond to make everything easier for her. He did everything he could and what did she do? Destroyed his clothes on their wedding night. Told him that they could share a bed.

"Arya," he interrupted her, gently taking her hand in his. His hand was warm. His touch soothing. "It's not as you think."

"You don't know what I'm thinking." She mumbled.

"You were thinking about how you were keeping me away from my home." He said, his voice still gentle.

She looked at him, surprised. "How did you-"

He shrugged. "I just do. And before you apologize, it's not as you think. It's a bit more complicated."

"How?" She asked moving closer to him.

"You know I lived in Flea Bottom most of my life as a no-name bastard," her grip on his hand tightened, he gave her a small smile. "It's fine. What I'm trying to say is I never had a family then, or a home, just a master who thought I was a good apprentice, a few people I used to talk to and no one. No one was ever going to miss me, no one ever missed me, and I guess seeing, reading, which Uncle Renly taught me, that someone actually does, it just feels-" his voice cracked.

Tears stung her eyes. She didn't know what to say. She entwined their fingers as she moved closer and hugged him. He was shocked at first the way he stiffened slightly, but she just held him tighter. After a while, his arms wrapped around her pulling her closer to him. He burrowed his face in the crook of her neck as she ran her fingers through his hair. She didn't know how long they held each other. She didn't know how or when she ended up on his lap and her legs were wrapped around his waist.

"Those days are gone, Gendry. That is in the past." She whispered softly as she pulled back. He wasn't looking at her. She gently cupped face, tenderly stroking his cheeks with her thumb. "You have people who care about you. Your Uncle Renly, and your father," he scoffed at that, but she continued, "your cousin Shireen, Jon, Nymeria. And me. You have me." His grip around her tightened as his gaze met hers. There was so much unspoken in his eyes that she felt something inside her tighten. She brushed his hair gently off his forehead, pressing a kiss there. "You will always have me."

She pressed her forehead against his, her nose almost touching his.

"We are a family." She whispered.

He lifted his hand brushing a stray hair from her cheek, his fingers gently caressing.

"We are a family." He whispered back.

*

Winterfell was abuzz as the feast celebrating Jon's legitimization was tonight. Jon was standing near the Great Hall, laughing over something Robb said. He had never seen Jon look so happy, granted he had known Jon for just over a moon's turn. He was happy for Jon. If anyone could understand how Jon felt, it would be him. Given, Jon knew his father, and his father loved him unlike- Gendry stopped himself from going any further. He never had a family before, but now he did. He has a family. An uncle, who loves him, a sister, who adored him, and Arya. He had Arya.

_We are a family._

Gendry couldn't fight the smile that took over. A warm feeling encompassed him. Happiness surrounded him. His heart felt lighter. All his life he had been searching for a place to belong. Searching for a family. He did get one with Uncle Renly and Shireen, whom he loved with all his heart but with Arya, it was different. With Arya, he felt at home. It didn’t matter where he was Arya made it feel like home. She was what he had been missing all his life. She completed him. He loved her. He stopped in tracks. He loved Arya Stark. He knew that he cared for her, had since he met her. As he got to know her better, he knew his feelings were changing, but he never admitted it to himself, until today. A warm feeling spread through him. He wanted to tell her but knew it wasn't the right time. He knew she cared about him, considered him a good friend and sometimes a little more. Sometimes, he thought he saw the same want and longing in her eyes that he felt, but he wasn't certain. He didn't want to make her uncomfortable by confessing his feelings, especially if she didn't feel the same way. He didn't want to ruin what they had. What if she never talked to him? What if she didn't want to look at him? What if-

"Gendry." Jon shook his shoulder, breaking him out of his thoughts.

"Are you well?" Jon asked concerned.

"Yes." He replied a little distracted, but he forced himself to smile.

Jon didn't look convinced, but he didn't ask any more questions. "We are going to the Godswood." He nodded towards the Godswood. "Come on."

*

His mind felt quieter after they returned from the Godswood. He didn't know what it was about the place that made him feel calmer, but it did. Every time the soft wind blew, he felt like someone was trying to tell him that everything will be fine and just like that he felt all his worries seeping out of him.

After they came back from Godswood, he made his way to the forge. He wanted to complete the dagger before the feast, and it was almost done too. He was making one other thing for Arya. He just hoped she liked it.

He took off his tunic and was mid-way putting on his work apron when Arya entered. She stopped when she noticed him, her cheeks growing dark. He hid a smile, leaving the ties of the apron undone. He picked up his hammer. After a moment, when she didn't speak, he cleared his throat. She came out of her stupor, getting even more flustered.

"You were saying." He said, raising his eyebrows.

"I just- the feast- you understand- I wanted to-." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Nothing."

She made her way to the table near the wall, where she always sat. He shrugged, placing the hammer beside the anvil and went to stoke the fire.

"Should I wear a dress?" Arya asked suddenly.

He turned to look at her, confused. "Do you want to wear a dress?"

She rolled her eyes. "It is a feast, and almost all the ladies would be wearing one-"

He shrugged. "So wear one."

She humphed. "But I don't want to."

He shrugged again. "Then don't wear one."

She groaned. "You are supposed to be helping."

He chuckled. "Why are you stressing about it so much?"

She was quiet for a moment, then mumbled something which he couldn't catch.

"What?" He asked.

"I said I don't want to disappoint Jon." After a beat, she added. "Or you."

His heart stuttered. She actually thought that? He shook his head. How could she ever think that? Wiping his hands on a rag, he made his way to her. She wasn't looking at him if anything she looked moments away from bolting.

He stood in front of he waiting for her to look up. When she didn't, he bent forward slightly, placing his hands on either side of her, so that they were face to face. "I don't think that is possible, My Lady."

She looked up almost shyly. "You really mean that, don't you." She spoke softly. It wasn't a question, but he nodded anyway.

She was studying him, her eyes searching for something in his. She must have seen whatever she was searching for because she kissed his cheek. As soon as her lips made contact with his skin, he felt a rush of heat rising throughout him.

He looked at her surprised. He drew back, only slightly, his hand raising on its own accord touching his cheek that still tingled.

"What was that for?" His voice sounded calmer than he felt. His mind was jumping from one thought to another. One part of him told him that it was merely a friendly kiss, another part of him wanted to capture her lips, and another part of him told him that it was most likely a mistake, honestly, most his mind was telling him that. He tried to quiet the chatter that was going on in his mind, but failed miserably. It wasn't until he saw her getting off the table, their bodies almost touching, that he came back to reality.

"For being you." She said with a smile.

*

Arya decided that wearing a dress for a short while wouldn't be as bad as she thought it would be, but she changed her mind as soon as she saw the one her mother had chosen for her. There was no way she would be able to walk in the monstrosity or breathe, and she would very much like to do both.

She was worried, despite Gendry's assurance, that Gendry would be disappointed. She was incredibly wrong because as soon as she entered the Great Hall, Gendry looked at her like she was the only one who mattered, the only one he wanted to see that she felt all her worries melting away.

*

The feast was great. Jon's happiness was infectious. She was not used to seeing so genuinely happy and ever since father told them about the legitimization it was as if a cloud of happiness surrounded him. It warmed her heart. Jon deserved every happiness in the world. She looked away, her gaze landing on the people dancing. She smiled when she saw Bran dancing with Meera Reed.

_It seems another feast is not that far away._ She chuckled softly.

"Something amuses you, My Lady," Gendry asked.

She sighed dramatically. "Only that you still wouldn't stop calling me that."

She turned to look at Gendry. He was looking at her with such tenderness that her heart stuttered. But there was something else in his gaze too. She knew that he wanted to ask her something and whatever it was, it made him nervous, and a little excited. She was about to ask him when he spoke.

"Do you want to-" he started.

"Yes," Arya replied before he could finish.

His lips quirked. "You don't know what I was about to ask you, My Lady."

"Stop calling me that." She replied rolling her eyes. "You wanted to leave the feast. Didn't you?"

His eyes widened. "How did you-"

"I just do." She repeated his words making him smile.

*

He was nervous. Excited too, but nervous. He couldn't wait for Arya to see the dagger.

"Why are we going to the forge?" She asked, confused. Before he could reply, she suddenly squealed in excitement. "You finished the dagger, didn't you?"

He shook his head. "It was supposed to be a surprise, Arya."

Her reply was another happy squeal, and he couldn't help but smile.

*

"Close your eyes." Gendry was nervous. Why was he nervous? She has seen his work, and every single thing he made was exceptional.

"Is it necessary? I already know about the dagger." Still, she closed her eyes. Her cheeks were hurting from smiling so much. She extended her hand. She opened her eyes as soon as she felt the cold steel on her palm.

She gasped. The dagger was absolutely beautiful. The steel gleamed orange because of the fire burning in the smithy. She ran her fingers through the intrinsic design on the hilt. The hilt was shaped like a Direwolf's head, and the precision with which it was done was absolutely breathtaking. He was truly a talented and gifted smith.

"Do you like it?" Gendry asked nervously.

"Like it?" She looked at him in awe. "I love it!"

He grinned shyly, then sobered. "Close your eyes."

"Again." Her eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Just- please."

She frowned slightly but obliged nonetheless. She extended her other hand. After a while, she once again felt the cold steel on her palm. It was small. It was a ring. She opened her eyes, her heart was racing. She looked at the ring, then at Gendry. He was blushing.

The ring was absolutely beautiful. There was a subtle design on it. As she turned it to examine the rest, her heart skipped a beat. _'We Are a Family'_ was engraved on it. She felt her eyes prickling, a lump formed in her throat.

"It's- it's perfect." She whispered. She curled her fingers around it, holding it close to her heart. "Perfect."

He looked pleased. His ears were even a darker shade of red than it had been before but he was happy.

Arya couldn't help it, she placed the dagger and the ring on the table and then hugged him, trying to tell him everything she felt. Trying to tell him that she was grateful that he was in her life, that she was lucky to have him, that she loved him. She stiffened. When did this happen? She knew she cared about him, but love? She didn't think she even knew what being in love meant. Sure, she loved her family, but this, this was different. He was different.

"Arya, are you well? You suddenly went very still." Gendry had pulled back, his gaze filled with concern as he studied her.

"Nothing." She shook her head. When he didn't look convinced, she smiled. "Really, it’s nothing. I just remembered something, that's all."

His eyes narrowed, but he didn't push any further.

"Did you see the engraving that was on the inner face of the ring?" He asked suddenly. He was trying his best not to grin.

She frowned. "Was there one?"

She picked up the ring, and groaned. It said, _My Lady._

He burst out laughing after seeing her expression. She was fighting back her own smile.

_Stupid._  She thought affectionately.

*

They were back in their chamber. She kept stealing glances at him, but every time she looked at him he was already looking at her. She looked at the ring, then at Gendry, suddenly feeling incredibly shy.

She cleared her throat, but Gendry looked deep in thought. She cleared her throat again, a little louder this time. Gendry jerked back into reality, then looked at her, concerned.

"It's nothing." She said hurriedly. "I just wanted to- would you- this ring-" it seemed like all her power of making coherent sentences has left her. So she simply extended her hand, the ring lying flat on her palm.

He didn't look confused instead he grinned and made his way to her. His gaze was so intense that she felt color rising in her cheeks as heat flooded through her.

He took the ring, his fingers lightly grazing her palm, she felt the room grow warmer. When he took her hand in his she felt a shiver run down her spine. His thumb was gently stroking the back of her hand as he slipped the ring on her finger. She let out a breath she didn't know she was holding. She looked at her fingers and saw the words _‘We Are a Family’_ staring back at her once again making her heart clench.

She could hear the music coming from the Great Hall. She didn't know why she suddenly felt disappointed that they didn't dance. She didn’t even dance!

"Would you like to dance?" Gendry asked, making her stare at him in surprise. "What?"

"Nothing. I was just about to ask you." She said chuckling softly. "And I should warn you this isn't water dancing, at which I excel, so I may step on your toes."

He moved closer placing one arm around her waist, making her feel breathless and linking his other hand with hers. She placed her hand on his shoulder moving closer to him. The chamber suddenly felt a lot smaller, a lot hotter, and yet colder because she could feel the gooseprickles rising on her skin. He smiled, then leaned forward so that his lips were almost touching her ear. "We'll go slow then."

His proximity, his words made her stomach clench. She could still hear the music that was coming from the Great Hall, though it was getting considerably difficult to make out what the song was as she felt herself getting lost in his beautiful eyes.

The last words of the song she heard were _No Featherbed For Me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you guys think?  
> I am so, so, so, so sorry for updating so late. Studies and life *sigh*  
> But I'm back xD and I'm hoping to update the last chapter as soon as I can xD  
> Thank you so much for being so awesome!!!  
> I hope you like it. Again I'm sorry for all my mistakes. Thank you so much for reading <3


	7. That's Not What I Meant

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are so freaking amazing!! Every time I see a comment and/or Kudos I feel like I'm on top of the world. I'm so grateful for all the love and support <3 <3 It means the world to me <3  
> Now, who's ready to read some mediocre smut xD

**Chapter 7: That's Not What I Meant**

Days flew by and every day started and ended with him by her side. She didn't know when he became such an integral part of her life. It felt like yesterday when she first saw him in the Godswood, and yet it felt like a lifetime. How can she feel like she has known someone her whole life and still remember meeting him as clear as day?

She already knew she felt something for him, something more than friendship but giving it a name scared her. She had never felt this way before. It was something entirely new. It was scary and exciting. It was exhilarating and tiring. So many emotions passed through her every time she saw him and yet she felt the calmest when she was with him. How was it that the person who made her feel so much was the same person who made every emotion inside her go calm as still water? It was confusing. It was comforting.

Every time she saw him her heart beats a little faster, a little harder, her breath came out a little faster, her body felt warm like happiness was coursing through her, gooseprickles rose on her skin whenever he looked at her intently, and his eyes darkened just a bit. Every time he touched her, she didn't want him to stop. She wanted to know how his hands would feel against her bare skin. She wanted to know if she would feel the same spark that she felt when their hands touched, everywhere else too. She wanted to know what it would feel like when they would move against each other. She wanted to know if he loved her.

The sound of Gendry's laughter broke her out of her thoughts. She looked across the training yard and saw Gendry laughing at something Jon had said. Her heart stuttered, and she felt the familiar warmth spreading through her. She smiled, as she studied him. He was beautiful. With his raven colored hair, his piercing blue eyes, his broad shoulders-

"Arya," Gendry's voice rang through the yard, stopping her eyes from roaming any further.

She waved her hand, blushing slightly. Blushing, this too started with him. She never used to do that before but ever since she met him she couldn’t seem to stop. He jogged towards her, a smile on his face.

"What were you thinking about?" He asked when he reached her.

"Nothing." She replied quickly.

His eyes narrowed.

"It was nothing. I was just wondering when father is going to announce Bran and Meera's betrothal."

He didn't look convinced, but he didn't push any further either. This was another thing she liked about him. He never pressured her, be it there their wedding night, or leaving for Storm's End. And at that moment she knew, she knew that she was ready. Ready to truly begin her life together with Gendry.

"We will be back before sundown." Gendry said, placing a hand on her arm.

She nodded, giving him a smile. She didn't know where they were going, but this was good. As she watched him leave various scenarios started to form in her mind for what would happen when she told him that she liked him.

*

She was a bundle of nerves by the time he got back to their chamber. He was telling her something about something, but all she could hear was the loud thudding of her heart. She didn't think she was this nervous even when they got married. She tried to get her to calm herself, but it was of no use.

She jumped when she felt his hand on her shoulder. On seeing his concerned expressions, she gave him a forced smile. She cannot do this. Why did she think she could do it? He clearly didn't like her like that. He would have said something, wouldn’t he have? What if he was being his understanding self and didn't want to pressure her? Or what if he simply loved someone else who was waiting for him at Storm's End? She was driving herself out her mind with all the what-ifs that were running through her.

"Are you going to tell me what's bothering you? And don't say nothing." He looked at her pointedly. She closed her mouth realizing she was about to say that exactly. "You've been distracted, jumpy. So tell me. Maybe I could help."

"We should go to Storm's End." She blurted out. She cursed herself. There was so much that she wanted to say, to tell him before saying that. She wanted him to know how much she appreciated him, liked him.

His face softened. "If this is about the letter from Uncle Renly-"

"No!" She winced when she saw his eyes widen at her tone. "I meant it wasn't about that. I mean it wasn’t just about that. I think it's time we should go. You must be missing everyone-"

He moved closer, making her gulp.

"We don't have to. We can stay till you feel comfortable enough." His voice was gentle it made her heart melt.

"I am." She whispered, then cleared her throat to speak a little louder. "I am ready."

"You are?" He sounded surprised. Couldn't he tell that things between them were different? She felt different when she was with him, didn’t he?

"I am." She said smiling at him. The smile that took over his lips was so endearing that she couldn't take her eyes off of him. It just made her feel even sure that she was doing the right thing. She couldn't wait any longer. She wanted to tell him. She cleared her throat, and his gaze met hers. She flushed, but she will not back away, but she did look away feeling nervous.

"I like you, Gendry." She said looking at the floor. She wanted to look at him to see if what she thought she saw in his eyes was true but at the same time, she was scared. What if he didn't? What if she ruined whatever it was between them? What if he loved someone else?

"I don't ju-" her heart dropped. Her ears were ringing. Tears blurred her vision. Gendry was saying something, she knew his voice would be soothing, but she didn't want pity. She mumbled an apology and turned to leave. She doesn't want him to see her cry. Why was she crying? It wasn't his fault that she felt the way she did, and at the same time, it was his fault, If he hadn't been so good, so understanding, so-so Gendry she would never have felt this way.

"Arya, wait." He said, touching her shoulder, but she shrugged it off and moved towards the door.

"Arya," he called again, sounding a little desperate. She doesn't stop. She couldn't even bear to look at him. Her heart felt heavy. She just wanted to be alone.

"Arya." This time she did stop. There was something in his voice that halted her steps. "That's not what I meant. You didn't let me finish."

"It's nothing. I just-" She faltered. She was trying her best to reign in her emotions, but her voice cracked. She knew he would try to console her and she didn't- she couldn't. Maybe he did love someone else. She felt a sob building in her chest. Before she could move any further, his hand grabbed her elbow and turned her towards him. Grabbing her face with both hands, tilting it towards him, he leaned forward, capturing her lips in a kiss that took her breath away. She felt her tears trickling down her cheek as her heart soared but a small, a loud part, of her reminded her that he didn't like her. At least not the way she liked him, making her pull back.

"Don't." She whispered as she pushed him back. Her back met the door. "You don't mean it."

"I do. I do mean it, Arya." He said desperately. "You didn't let me finish. No, let me finish."  Her protest died on her lips as he stepped closer. "I was saying I don't just like you. I love you."

Her heart stopped, and her breath caught in her throat as she felt a fresh wave of tears rolling down her cheek. "You do?"

"I do." He nodded, wiping her tears gently with his fingers. Her eyes fluttered closed. Happiness swelled inside her.

"I love your eyes." He whispered before kissing her eyes.

"I love the way corners of your eyes crinkle when you laugh," he said softly, kissing the corner of her eyes.

“I love the way you frown when you concentrate." He kissed her between her brows and then her forehead. Her heart was picking up its pace with every word he uttered, with every press of his lips against her skin.

"I love the way your cheeks flush when you blush," he kissed her cheeks, her heart was beating harder. Her stomach was in knots. Her skin tingled with anticipation.

"I love the way you scrunch your nose." He kissed the tip of her nose. His voice dropped lower with every word, with every kiss. She opened her eyes. His eyes were so dark and heated that it made her breath hitch. His lips were a breath away from hers.

"I love you." His voice was barely over a whisper. This time she was the one who made the first move. She raised her hand gently stroking his cheek before cupping it. She shuddered when their lips met. The first brush of her lips against his was tentative, almost shy. The second was more firm, more passionate. She pulled back, his eyes darker than she had ever seen before. Both of them were breathing hard. The heat between them grew as they continued to stare at each other. This time when their lips met, there was no finesse. There was just need. The need to be closer. The need to be together. The need to be with each other.

She was pressed against the door. The feel of his lips moving against hers, the feel of his body pressed against her was intoxicating. She didn't hold back, touching him, kissing him back trying to tell him everything she felt. His hands were everywhere. His tongue teased the seam of her lips driving her wild. She moaned when his tongue stroked hers, and her grip on his shoulder tightening. He groaned when she mimicked his actions. His hands grabbed her back as he picked her up. Her legs wrapped around his waist as he ground into her. Her head fell back when she felt his hardness against her. His lips left hers making their way down her jaw and neck. He loosened the ties of her tunic with one hand while the other was on her waist holding her steady. His fingers stroked every inch of exposed skin, and his lips followed. Shivers racked up her spine. Her fingers dug into his shoulders when he kissed between her breasts making her moan. His grip on her waist tightened. His lips met her again as he turned them. Without breaking the kiss, he started to move them towards their bed. Pulling back slightly he nuzzled her nose, then gently laid her down, and she immediately removed her tunic.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispered as he drank in the sight of her, making her blush.

His own shirt was half undone. She doesn’t remember doing it, but she was glad that her hand knew what they were doing even when her mind was hazy with pleasure. She reached for him and started undoing the rest of his shirt, his eyes following her every movement. She kissed every inch of his exposed skin. She was right. His body was a work of art. She smiled at him as she ran her hands down the hard planes of his stomach making him groan. When she reached his breeches he grabbed her wrist before she could untie it. With a growl, he captured her lips again and slowly lowered them back down. His hands moved down her body, and she felt like she was on fire. He palmed her breast making her gasp. When his lips followed suit, all her ability to think went out the window. She arched her back when he kissed the soft curve of her breast. She felt his fingers moving down her belly, and her stomach clenched.

"I love you." His voice was like a caress against her bare skin. She arched into him as his fingers met her curls, and dipping lower. As he sucked a nipple his seeking fingers met her wet centre, her legs closed around his wrist.

“Gods, you are so wet.” He murmured against her damp skin, making her nipples harden even more. He gently moved her legs apart as his fingers started to move against her soft flesh. Her head fell back, her grip on his arm must have been bruising. She almost shot off the bed when his thumb gently circled the sensitive nub. He kissed her breast as his fingers sped up. She was moving against his hand. Her body shook with pleasure. She was nearing something. Gendry gently tugged her nipple, and that was it. Her thighs snapped around his wrist. Her eyes drifted shut as she felt waves and waves of pleasure roll over her. Her muscles clenched around his fingers as she felt ice and fire run through her. She was breathing heavily. When she opened her eyes, he was looking at her with so much love that she couldn't help but kiss him.

“That felt amazing.” She sighed against his lips.

“I’m glad it did, My Lady.” He smiled, kissing the tip of her nose.

She lifted her hips slightly removing her breeches. She saw Gendry’s eyes widen.

“We don’t have to-” he started, but she cut him off with another kiss.

“Yes, we do.” She replied, removing her breeches and then started to remove the shirt she had undone.

Her hands roamed through the smooth skin of his chest and back. She reached up and bit his collarbone lightly, making him groan, and his hips jerked against her. She shivered when she felt his hardness against her. The familiar heat started to build and pooled between her legs.

"Arya, are you sure?" he said softly as he pushed a stray hair behind her ears.

"I am lying naked beneath you and trying to undo your breeches, what do you think?" She replied rolling her eyes. Her hand was already busy trying to loosen the ties of his breeches. His breath hitched when her fingers brushed against his hardness. She ran her palm down his length, and his control snapped. He kissed her hard, as she stroked him. His thumbs flicked her nipples. He took her hand in his, raising them above her head.

“I’m not going to last if you keep doing that, My Lady.” He replied, pressing his lips against the hollow of her throat when she made a disgruntled noise. He removed his breeches not looking away from her. He was absolutely gorgeous. This was the only thought in her mind when she saw him naked. He was on top of her once again, a silent question in his eyes as he settled himself between her legs. She replied by pressing up against him. He was breathing hard as he pushed into her. He was careful not to hurt her. It felt different. It felt amazing. It wasn't as painful as everyone said it would be. She had had worse. She caressed his back, running her finger through his hair.

There was a pinch, and then he was fully inside her. He didn't move, giving her time to adjust. But he wasn't still. He kissed her lips as he rolled a nipple between his fingers. She felt the heat course through her body, and she felt herself move against him. It started out slow, his pace picking with every thrust, but it still didn't seem enough. She wanted him even closer. He kissed her once again, biting her lower lip at the same time he pinched her nipple lightly. She gasped.

"You are so beautiful." He whispered, sweat dripping down his brow.

She felt herself climbing higher. Her world started to narrow. She was chasing that high again and the way Gendry's pace quickened, she knew Gendry was close too.

"Gendry." She gasped as he reached between them and rubbed against the sensitive nub again. She felt heat spreading through her body and gooseprickles rose on her skin as shivers racked her body. Her breath was coming out a little faster. With his name on her lips, her whole world stopped and then shattered. As she came back from her high she heard Gendry say her name as he reached his peak.

He slumped above her, nuzzling her neck sighing happily. He mumbled something against her neck, and she knew he was saying I love you again.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked her worried as he pushed himself up and looked at her.

She reached up and kissed him, pulling him down once again. "Never."

She smiled happily. He started to move away, but she held him closer.

"I'm heavy, Arya. I must be crushing you."

She turned her face to kiss his cheek. "Just a little longer."

*

She was laying on her side, Gendry behind her. His arms were around her, holding her close. She felt content. Happy. Gendry was tracing patterns on ribs, as he kissed his way up her neck  He pressed a kiss to her shoulder.

"You are so perfect." He murmured as kissed her behind her ear making her giggle.

Her heart felt like it couldn't contain all the happiness and love. She loved Gendry with all her heart.

"Gendry," she said quietly.

"Hmm." He hummed pulling her even closer to him.

"I don't just like you either."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So what do you guys think?  
> I wanted to write bad smut in the notes at the beginning of chapter but then I remembered I read a book where "his anaconda unfurled", so I settled on mediocre xD I tried.  
> Finally the last chapter! Its 2 months late (sorry) but finally here xD  
> Next I'm really going to try and write angst, like 'you throwing rotten vegetables at me' kind of angst (I don't know if I'll be any good at it but I'll try), but before that I have 2 lighthearted ones planned.  
> I really hope you liked it. Again I'm sorry for all my mistakes. Thank you so much for reading <3 <3


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